


[Art + Fic] Kings and Vagabonds

by schweet_heart



Series: Merlin Fic [156]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassination Plot(s), Assassins & Hitmen, Digital Art, Digital Painting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Forbidden Love, Light Angst, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Arthur Pendragon, Protective Merlin, Secret Identity, Sharing a Bed, Vulnerable Arthur, bedwarming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 04:03:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16885290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: His cheeks were flushed, his white shirt open at the neck to expose the hollow of his throat as he swallowed, and Merlin couldn’t help but take pity on him.“You want me to be your bedwarmer,” he said, and watched as Arthur winced.Written/drawn for CD Prompt 342: Cold.





	[Art + Fic] Kings and Vagabonds

**Author's Note:**

> Art based on [this gif-set](https://ueberdemnebelmeer.tumblr.com/post/180143904823/s04e10-a-herald-of-the-new-age-for). 
> 
> You can find more of my art [here on DA](https://schweet-arts.deviantart.com).

 

  
Some weeks before midwinter, when a biting cold had settled in over the castle and the snow had begun to fall in earnest, Merlin received a summons from the prince to attend him in his chambers.  
  
He had known that it was going to happen; the other servants had warned him of what to expect, and he had already begun to prepare his excuses as to why he would have to regretfully decline. It wasn’t that he found Arthur unattractive—anyone with eyes would have to agree that Arthur was beautiful, with his golden hair and his sharp blue gaze and _that smile_ —but Merlin had come to Camelot for a purpose, and that purpose was not to bed its Crown Prince, however enticing such a prospect might be.  
  
He had been expecting it to be an order: _Merlin, there is something that I require of you_ —but when he got there, Arthur was standing at the window, hands clasped awkwardly behind his back, and what actually came out of his mouth was more like a request. “I’m not sure if you’re aware,” he said, looking everywhere but at Merlin’s face, “but during the winter months here, it sometimes grows cold enough that—well. It is considered a useful practice for the nobility to—”  
  
His cheeks were flushed, his white shirt open at the neck to expose the hollow of his throat as he swallowed, and Merlin couldn’t help but take pity on him.  
  
“You want me to be your bedwarmer,” he said, and watched as Arthur winced.  
  
“I’m aware that you don’t like me,” the prince said, his voice pitched low. “It need only be a practical arrangement. But the winters in Camelot can be brutal, and my father has requested that I choose someone to ensure that I don’t freeze.” He glanced up at Merlin then, sidelong and fleeting. “It would benefit the both of us, to be warm at nights.”  
  
Merlin had fully intended to say no until that point, but something about the way Arthur said it made him pause—like he was _expecting_ to be turned down. And Gaius’ rooms could get very cold after sun-down; there were gaps between the stones where the mortar had crumbled away, and the blankets Gaius had given him weren’t thick enough to ward off the chill.  
  
“All right,” he said, and Arthur lifted his head.  
  
“You’ll do it?”  
  
Merlin smiled. “I’ll start tonight,” he said, making it a promise. “My lord.”

 

+

  
  
In the evening, Arthur stood very close to the fire, his eyes following Merlin’s movements as Merlin untied his laces with trembling fingers. It was hard not to fumble a little—when he had agreed to this, he had thought of it vaguely as _sleeping in the same bed_ and nothing more; he had not realised he would be asked to disrobe the prince as well, or that Arthur would let him, arms loose and patient at his sides. That Arthur would be _watching_ him.  
  
“You’ve never done this before,” the prince observed, when Merlin finally succeeded in stripping him of his shirt and moved on to his breeches. His nipples were pink and taut, his skin pebbled, and Merlin found it hard to keep his eyes focused on his work.  
  
“Is it that obvious?”  
  
Arthur’s mouth twitched. “If you know what to look for.” He lifted a foot and used it to nudge at Merlin’s leg. “You might want to start with the boots. It’s easier that way.”  
  
“Oh—of course.” Merlin knelt in front of him, all too aware of Arthur’s hand on his shoulder, the heat of it sinking down into his skin. He removed Arthur’s boots, and then his trousers, leaving him standing naked in the firelight while Merlin turned to fetch his sleeping shift. The material was warm from the fire, and when Merlin slid it over Arthur’s head, it did little to disguise how hard he was.  
  
“Merlin.” The sound of his name jolted Merlin from his thoughts, and he looked up guiltily, cheeks hot as he found Arthur studying his face. “I meant what I said before. Nothing will happen between us tonight, or any other night, if you don’t wish it.”  
  
Merlin swallowed hard. “And if I do wish it?” he asked, straightening up. Arthur stood still for a long moment, as though debating with himself.  
  
“Then perhaps you should hurry up and take off your things,” he said at last, turning and padding away towards the bed. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

 

+

  
  
It was a mistake, Merlin knew; he understood long before he came with Arthur inside him that he had grossly miscalculated his own ability to remain detached, perhaps even to see the mission through. He had not been told to expect an _honourable_ prince, and there was something disarming in the way the man slept, curled on his side with his back towards Merlin, as though blissfully ignorant of the number of people determined to stick a dagger in it. Nimueh had told him that Arthur was arrogant; that he agreed with his father on all things, and it would be no loss to the kingdom when he was gone, but that was not what Merlin saw. There was something honest in Arthur’s face that his father lacked, a vulnerability beneath the brash exterior which called to Merlin in ways he didn’t fully understand.  
  
He ran his hand along the curve of Arthur’s spine, stopping at the place where a single blade could sever his life from his body, and kissed the spot. _I’m aware that you don’t like me_ , Arthur had said, but Arthur didn’t know—how could he?—how often Merlin had watched him, or how much he had admired the things he'd seen.  
  
There must be some way of thwarting Nimueh’s plan, or circumventing it. Merlin nestled close to the prince, settling a proprietary hand over Arthur’s hip, and considered all the ways he could think of to keep the man alive.  
  
Arthur slept on, oblivious, his soft, even breaths slowly lulling Merlin back to sleep.


End file.
